Luca
The Vegas sun shines through the drapes lighting up the room and casting an almost ethereal glow throughout. Feeling an emptiness, and detachment, I can’t explain, I watch the light bounce around the bedroom as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.
Honestly, it just might be.
A body shifting beside me drags me from my hollowness, drawing my attention elsewhere. Shifting my gaze, my eyes land on blonde hair, tanned skin and a long leg peeking out of the comforter.
Mywife.
Or so I'm told.
Truthfully, and the same as with this room, this house, or my life right now, I don't recognize the woman lying beside me. It would be amusing if I didn’t feel so fucking empty and hopeless.
A couple months ago, everything changed and now it all feels different, as if I don’t belong. I’m treading water, waiting to drown, falling into an abyss, and with the way things are going, the way I am feeling, it will only be a matter of time before I sink or fall. I am certain of it.
“Morning husband,” a soft voice purrs lasciviously.
My gaze flicks to my wife, Caterina. She smiles up at me with big brown, optimistic eyes. Just like all the other times I have looked in her direction, unwarranted, but very real disdain surges in my veins and though it’s not Caterina’s fault, I can’t help this feeling. It’s like my body and brain is rejecting her, yet I have no idea why.
To Caterina, I am her husband.
To me, she is a stranger.
Her face falls, and she blinks, no doubt at my lack of response. Clearing my throat, I force a smile, murmuring out, “Morning.”
Sitting up, her lips curve up into a grin. Reaching forward, she runs her long red talons across my chest. It’s a move to entice or arouse me, I'm sure, though it doesn't have the desired effect. My dick doesn’t even twitch.
“I was thinking that maybe we could...” she trails off, her eyelashes fluttering coyly as her fingers work their way down my stomach and toward my cock.
Catching her wrist, I stop her descent, bringing her hand to my mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to her skin to ease the clear disappointment in her eyes. She smiles once more, that same hungry look entering her brown eyes. I wish she would stop. Frankly, I don’t have even the smallest inclination to fuck her.
“Later. I need to get ready for work.” It’s a lie, but it’s all I’ve got right now.
Caterina pouts, her voice whiney when she speaks. “It has been months, Luca. I am a woman with needs. Can’t work wait?”
I shake my head. “No. You know how Vincenzo gets. He will have my ass if I’m late.”
“Screw my brother and take care of your wife,” she moans, throwing the comforter off and trailing her hand down the apex of her thighs. She flips the lace babydoll nightgown covering part of her body up, revealing her bare pussy. My gaze narrows andthough a nagging voice in my mind tells me to look away, I watch as she runs a finger from her clit down to her slit in a move designed to seduce me. Moving the digit back up, she circles her little bud, moaning out loud, her hips rocking.
“Please, Luca. Look how much I want you. Look how wet I am.” Her breathy words are a plea.
Placing her feet flat on the bed, she spreads her thighs wider before plunging a finger into her ready cunt. My wife isn't lying, the squelching sounds alone tell me how aroused she is. And yet, my cock doesn't even stir. Caterina is an attractive woman. Tall, blonde, a body that most men would kill for and fake tits. But yet, I have no interest. Honestly, I am starting to think it’s a me problem and I’m broken.
Caterina cries out, bringing me back to the room. I stare as she works another finger inside her. Surely, by now any other virile, healthy man with a sexual appetite, would have removed them and shoved his cock in her, fucking her until they were both spent. So why am I standing here with indifference?
“I’ve gotta go,” I tell her coldly, tearing my eyes from where she pleasures herself and climbing off the bed.
“Christ, Luca. You are going to have to fuck me sometime. It’s been months now. Did your dick stop working after your accident?” Caterina huffs the insult with annoyance.
Ignoring her, I head for the adjoined bathroom, making quick work of showering and brushing my teeth. Moving back into the bedroom, I pause when I find Caterina still fucking herself with her fingers which are clearly not enough to get her off.
Sighing, I stride to her nightstand, pulling open the top drawer and smirking when I find just what I am looking for.
A vibrator.
Tossing it on the bed beside her, I say, “Use that, it will get you off in no time.”
She glares, grating out, “I would like my husband to get me off.”